"You mean to tell me that Harry tied in first with Cedric all thanks to a house elf?" I remarked, dumbstruck, as Ginny nodded her head with an ever growing smile.
"He just gave him the Gillyweed. Harry did everything else. Honestly though, have you never heard of a house elf helping a wizard before?"
"It's not that," I quipped, giving Ginny a stern glance over. "It's that Harry never asked for help from the creature in the first place. And yet it still worked until dawn to help him. That's not natural."
"Well, "Ginny started, "Dobby is not a natural house elf. You should hear the stories Hermione has on that creature. He used to belong to the Malfoy family if you can believe it."
"Not really. What's a house elf from the Malfoy's doing with Harry?"
"He used to belong to the Malfoys. As in he was let go or set free. By Harry, actually. It was rather sweet of him."
I paused in my walk and turned to face Ginny's thoughtful expression.
"You're swooning again."
"That obvious?" She asked, going red. I nodded, with a growing smile. I always liked the idea of Ginny with Harry. Maybe in a fairytale those two would work out well.
But this was no fairytale. And crushes don't usually relate back to one another in the real world.
We turned back to our walk toward the black lake where students, mostly Beauxbatons girls, picnicked by the shore. It was early March, a week after the second task had been completed, and the weather was already showing signs of spring. The frost that had once covered every living thing was shrinking into the wet earth, ready for new life to spring out.
The sky, however, remained grey, with little sunlight to warm our backs. The Durmstrang boys could care less, as they were out in the water, swimming like it was the fourth of July. The rest of us were desperate to sit outside again, but not so desperate as to swim in the cold depths the lake provided. So, if that meant we had to cast a spell on picnic blankets to stay mud free, so be it.
"I swear I'm over him, you know," Ginny continued. "I reckon I haven't thought about him like that in over a month."
"I find that hard to believe, but okay." Ginny coughed back a laugh, as I glanced at her with a sly grin.
"Go on then, tell me. How's the whole Michael thing going? The dates are going well so what's next? Have you both made it official yet?"
"Not yet," Ginny answered ruefully. "Though I would have thought he would have asked by now. I'll say something to him tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? What's going on tomorrow?" I asked, thinking back to what was happening this coming week. It was Saturday afternoon. And as far as I could recall, nothing other than being lazy was my plan for Sunday.
"Nothing. I've just made up my mind. I should go owl him to meet me. D'you mind telling them I'll be right back?" I glanced ahead toward my French friends who were busy cutting open miniature baguettes sent in from Gisele's mother last night. Everyone had been very excited to eat French bread again. Especially me.
"Okay. But hurry back. I can't promise you any bread if you're gone too long." Ginny merely rolled her eyes, as if the obsession with bread was nothing to the matter at hand before taking off toward the owlery.
When I reached the others, a few began questioning where Ginny had gone off to, making me reopen the subject.
"Good for her. Waiting for the boy to make the first move takes forever and is not worth the stress that comes along with it," Ana said in a rather chipper voice while Gisele nodded on silently.
Sam didn't join us for bread and butter, so I went out to find her as the evening lights set in. Alice, the Ravenclaw first year, was registered into the hospital wing for a migraine that wouldn't go away.
Sam, ever the sweetheart, was by her sister's side, replacing cold wash clothes on her small forehead every half an hour. When she saw me come in, she silently crept from her sister's side and stopped near the doorway.
"Any better?"
"Not really," Sam said simply. "But they usually last longer than a day anyway, so I'm not concerned. I wrote to mum about it when Tati took over for an hour."
"How long do they last?" Sam shrugged, before taking another step into the doorway and away from the silent form of her sister.
"Depends on what's causing them. Alice and my mother both have chronic migraines so it happens often enough and for longer periods of time than a usual headache. Madam Pomphrey knows this and has been giving Alice potions to stop the throbbing. But she says the ache is still there and she can't concentrate. If I had to wager a guess," she continued, glancing from her sister and back to me, "I'd say it's from the weather."
"The weather? You're joking." Sam was not joking and went on to explain that sometimes changes in seasons really did have an impact on people.
"Suffice it to say, you dodged a bullet by not inheriting that trait from your mother," I said finally with a kind smile. Sam nodded, fully aware of her luck.
"So how was the bread and butter picnic? Freeze your pretty fingers off?"
"No, but I did manage to save you some," I said with a growing grin as I took out a napkin from my muff and handed it to her. She tossed the piece into her mouth without much thought and ate it whole while I kept watch for Pomphry.
As March continued to roll by, the castle defrosted slowly but surely, until everywhere you walked, you found yourself stepping in mud.
Beauxbatons' heels were not great for this weather, but Madam Maxime had that thought furthest from her mind.
After the Yule Ball, our headmistress had lost that causal charm in her step that we had grown accustomed to following to and from dinner. Mila expected it came from the gloomy aura of Hogwarts, something I was quick to bash from the conversation almost immediately.
Surprisingly it was Rosalie whose idea rang true after close observation on our parts.
"She doesn't talk to that gate keeper anymore, does she?"
"The same one who had that article written about him?" Gisele inquired curiously. Rosalie nodded, before I identified the name, Hagrid.
"He's very kind," I explained one day after we had continued on to the carriage while Maxime stopped on over to him. The group of us halted a good distance away and peered to watch in simple glances at the giant pair.
"What do you think they're talking about?" Ana asked eagerly.
"The Third task no doubt."
"Or maybe a secret rondevu," Mila said with a girlish giggle.
"Shhh, Mila do you want Maxime's wrath on us?" Marie chided in alarm, but it was Jacqueline who waved them aside and looked on eagerly, her sly smile reminding me eerily of a fox in the bushes, stalking her prey.
Just then Maxime turned on her heels and walked up to the carriage, paying little attention to us, who were quick to talk amongst ourselves about the most absurd things ("Oui, Rosalie I just love your freckles-").
The moment she disappeared from our view, Rosalie made it her mission to turn on Mila and question what she truly thought of her freckles. Mila didn't know how to respond.
Our final thoughts on the whole ordeal? Maxime had been tossed to the wind by an oaf of a man, of all people. This was highly unusual given the class and lifestyle Maxime was known to associating herself with. So, gossip and further detective work from the entire student body of Beauxbatons continued to question this theory for the rest of March.
We were in the middle of breakfast one Wednesday morning near the end of the month, when another interesting situation occurred.
Hermione was getting mail. Tons of it. And it wasn't good mail by any means. Howlers screeching at her for toying with the hearts of Harry Potter and Viktor Krum erupted throughout the Great Hall sending even the likes of me to duck under cover from second-hand embarrassment.
Worst part about it: she continued to get howlers and mail for over a week and the entire great hall heard every detail.
It didn't take me long to figure out where these messages spurned from. It was Tati, of all people, who knew thanks to her obsession with Witches Weekly, a trash mag that wrote the most absurd gossip rags as I would later see.
"Supposedly she jumps between Krum and Potter like play toys, going to who would give her the most attention," Tati explained with big eyes as I scanned the article (written by that rat of a woman, Skitter) a day after that first howler echoed over breakfast.
We were outside the charm's classrooms, with Rosalie and Marie looking over my shoulder. Sam was standing next to her overzealous sister, taking this dramatic turn of events with little thought. Unlike the rest of us, Sam still didn't have much of a care for Hermione Granger.
She was, after all, one of the main reasons Slytherin lost the house cup each year to date (Harry Potter was a whole other topic).
"This is such garbage!" I exclaimed in disgust, before tossing the magazine back at Tati's baffled face.
"Right- yeah, utter rubbish," she claimed, switching tunes. Her sister gave her a very judgmental look before snapping back my way.
"Well what can you do about it? It's not like you can cage the writer for stating her opinion."
"I wish I could, if not more," I added, fuming.
"A good stun in the face should do it," Marie confirmed with a nod, while Rosalie looked at us with horror. She wasn't that quick to anger as her two blonde friends.
"Please don't. I'm sure there's a law in the books about stunning people at random."
"Hush, Rosalie. We're not actually going to do it," Marie confided but Sam was looking at me, fully aware that if the occasion arose, I so would stun that bitch of a witch.
Hermione, understandably, didn't show her face for a while. Sam told me that when people did this, it was usually a sign to not get involved in their personal drama.
While the want to ignore Sam's warning was strong, I did as she said, and directed my attention to something else.
My mother.
Merlin knows why my mother took this opportunity to write to me when for most of the spring semester she had remained silent (something I was fine with given how she was prone to judge everything I did anyways).
But deep down I also feared that hearing from her would mean news had spread about my Yule Ball experience and what occurred between me and Draco.
Suffice it to say, when her letter arrived, I wanted nothing better than to throw it into the fire and call it a day. But Gisele stopped me, and reminded me that I could always not answer the letter if it was that bad.
So, I opened it.
Mon Ange,
I haven't heard from either you or Theo in over a month and I have grown worried. Or as worried as I can be given the radio silence from both of you and the teachers at Hogwarts. I assume I should be relieved that since your arrival to Hogwarts, your brother has managed to keep himself in check. I am curious to hear how you have managed this. Though I wish my younger children would be better to their mother. Narcissa received a letter from Draco without any reminders on her part. Imagine my surprise. She actually has a son who worries for her! (Yeah, I'm sure that was his exact motive, mother.)
I am also curious to hear how the ball went for you and your brother. I had expected at least one snapshot from one of the numerous cameras you own. Shouldn't your collection be useful for a change? In your return letter, send me a few pictures. I hear your dress turned heads at the ball as I had hoped it would. As I always have said, the right gown can do wonders to your night. It sounds like you had a rather entertaining evening, as you should for your age, with plenty of attention. To think you wouldn't have been able to go if you still attended Hogwarts is shocking to say the least. I am sure your old friends from that school envied you greatly.
I have a small favor to ask of you. One that I am sure you would be more than eager to accomplish. I need you to check in on your brothers. In particular, Damion. He has since moved out of the house, as I am sure you have heard- (I had not in fact heard this little tid-bit, though I figured it was about time. Damion isn't exactly a child anymore.) – and he has no longer been receiving my owls. I know Theo has been in contact with him, though why he would be doing that and not writing another letter to me is another matter. I would suggest that you keep this favor to yourself, and in return, I would be more than happy to let you have free reign on your summer holiday this year.
Your loving mother,
Emmeline.
"What does she want?" I looked to Gisele, who was searching my face for the worst outcome. What I answered with wasn't exactly what she was expecting.
"She wants me to spy on my brother. Also, I think Malfoy snitched. That bastard."
"It can't be that bad," She said hastily. I responded by handing her the letter to read over. When she had finished, she looked beside herself with confusion.
"I didn't think your mother was like this. She always seemed so-"
"Lovely?" I answered, giving her a knowing look as she nodded slowly. "My mother always has a motive. She just uses her charm to mask it for most people. It's a bit hard to charm your own daughter though. Thanks to her, I too use those tricks."
"Are you going to do it, then? Snitch on your brother?"
"Of course," I confirmed, as I slide the letter into my bag. "If I don't, I have a feeling something Draco Malfoy told his dear mummy is going to resurface in the family, and I'd like to keep that silent."
"You can't be certain she knows anything. And even if she does, it's not going to be the end of the world, is it?" Gisele asked in almost a pleading tone. I paused in my step and turned to her.
"Gisele, trust me when I say that my mother's favor wasn't an optional endeavor. Do you see that underlined word, here?" I asked, pulling the letter out again. Gisele gave it another scan through, and when finding it, nodded.
"Attention."
"Yes, as in the constant attention Draco Malfoy gave me the moment my good for nothing date abandoned me at the slow dance portion of the evening."
"He wasn't the only one who gave you attention that night," Gisele reminded me. I grimaced at the thought.
"Yes, but Draco's is the only attention that counts. And is the only reason why she would randomly underline a word like that," I added, pointing again at the letter. "Either I do it, and reap the benefits or I don't and have to spend the summer with my mother forcing me into awkward situations with Malfoy and his good for nothing snobbish family."
Gisele placed an arm around mine and gave my hand a comforting squeeze.
"This will stress you if you don't comply." I nodded slowly, confirming Gisele's resolve on the matter. "Okay then. Go ahead. I won't judge."
"You can't tell the others. Especially Sam. I have a feeling I'll hear an earful if she were to find out." Gisele bit her lip but continued to nod, putting my nerves at ease.
"Thank you, Gisele."
-
Hello there!
I wrote this late today, as you all can probably tell by my update time. I was able to write a general estimate of how many chapters are left. It all adds up to about five chapters left in total. Once the Third Task gets written, it's going to be a fast conclusion to this book.
I'll see you all on Wednesday.
Until then,
-WG-